


Maganda

by hotaryu



Category: Heneral Luna (2015), Heneral Luna | General Luna (2015) RPF
Genre: Angst, F/M, Letters, Timeskips
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-08
Updated: 2015-12-08
Packaged: 2018-05-05 15:11:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,887
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5379830
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hotaryu/pseuds/hotaryu
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They call her Beata. Blessed. They called him Pingkian, and his name was Liberty.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. P1

**Author's Note:**

> I used LunaSonas here. References.

They call you Beata, Blessed, and we meet the day I join the Katipunan at 19. I slice my arm, and you are the first person to approach me. A nice girl with round eyes and a pointed chin and long hair I can get lost in, who takes steps near me, prepared with a cup of water and a rag. You offer me the rag, and I register you. The Katipunan is a place for mostly men, but it’s risky enough you are here. A random girl; I wonder who among your relatives is a Katipunero, but then again, is it my business to ask?

I am nineteen and you are close to my age. You extend your hand and I take the rag; your body language is easy to follow. It’s tricky to follow the language here. I have grown up speaking in another way, and my new companions follow another vernacular. Yet I have joined. Maybe I will have to eventually prove myself. I look at my new companions – men, who are talking to themselves, then I look at you.

You shoot me a smile, and I shyly smile back at you. I wipe the blood off my arm and hand it to you, and I watch how you move. You move like a dove, in your universe, and I see you converse with the others, moving back and forth across the room, comfortable unlike me. From upstairs, there is the barging of shoes and another girl has joined the room.

Another woman too, and she is your age. Two girls, I note, as I size up everyone in the room. I may not speak your vernacular but I have earned my way through life. I am earnest in my desire to serve my country. I have read books and understood them. I know good strategies for battle and war. And best, I am earnest about my causes.

The girl who has entered the room whispers into your ear, and you take a shy look at me. I return it with another shy smile. Around me, I can hear some laughter. A tall and lean man with chiselled features snorts in amusement and he approaches the girl who has whispered in your ear something. Her face twists, and there is a cold cunning calculation in your eyes.

“Adela naman,” I hear him say. Adela. I look at her, then I look at you. He curses again. “…Pasensya, Hannibal.”

Hannibal? Isn’t that the name of the general who crossed the Alps with elephants on tow?

You look at me again.

I watch your lips. How they form the syllables.

“Beata.”

Blessed. Your nom de guerre.

**

Apparently the man is named Manolo, and he is active in both the Manila and Bulacan chapters of Katipunan and his brother named Vito also helps him with it. He speaks the same as me – the Spanish creole – and he can speak the local vernacular of our other new companions. He introduces himself to me, as Manolo, and his nom de guerre is Moises, after the Biblical figure while Vito, his younger brother who is neat-looking and generous, happens to have a rather embarrassing one (Manggagamot).

You are Beata, and their sister, Adela, is called Hannibal after the legendary general. This small gathering is pleasant, I guess, but this is tricky. I have to navigate a new world with a new vernacular, as Manolo tells me, while we drink some water served by his sister, who smirks at me as if she is not the sister of an educated man who is also trying to survive law school and as if she is a man. You laugh at the sight of me.

Manolo tells me I might need to adjust my vernacular.

I hang my head and I agree.

And then he whispers in my ear something.

I need to have my hair cut. Manolo’s sister is snickering at me, and I give her a frown. She sticks out her tongue and you grab her arm, obviously trying to get her to stop.

I flash you a grateful smile.

Thank you for your kindness.

**

Hire a tutor, is what Manolo suggests, so Andres and you approach me with the idea of teaching me to adapt.

I ask you for the word for beautiful and you blush. I ask once again and you sigh. You tell me you can teach me another time – and behind us, I can feel the prying eyes. Andres Bonifacio and Manolo and Adela are watching me.

I wonder if you know how lovely you are, you know, during those days. We pore over words and Andres slowly becomes Andoy in the process. You will be Beata, the blessed beauty of the Manila chapter of Katipunan.

But slowly, I learn, despite Adela’s snickers and Manolo’s stares, under the weight of your gaze and Andoy’s patience. He teaches me to pronounce the words right, with the time I allot to taking notes. I take note of everything, from the meaning of the words, to the pronunciation. Patience is a virtue, and you two have been saints.

**

“Pingkian.” I introduce myself finally to the Manila chapter, trying out the language on my tongue.

Adela looks up. You give me an encouraging smile and I blush.

“Ako ay si Pingkian.”

There is a slow clap from you.

**

One night, I practice writing sentences.

…

Mahal kita.

I scribble it down the notebook, and Andoy picks it up.

“Mahal kita?”

I look at him.

“Mahal ko po kayo talaga.”

**

"May pasok ako bukas." 

I tell you this earnestly, and you smile at me, as if you know automatically my life's secrets. Old soul. Sweet child. You, so lovely it felt like it was being in heaven when I am around you. A woman-child of surpassing beauty, this is how I will remember you. You worriedly put down the tray that holds the kakanin and ensaymada you have been making and you go to the sink to wash your hands. You shoot me a big wide grin and walk up to me.

"Umupo ka."

A blanket is wrapped around my neck and you get scissors.

Locks of hair fall on the ground and later, you show me my reflection in the mirror.

"Beata, ano itsura ko para sa iyo?"

"Ang gwapo mo."

I blush tediously and you whisper in my ear.

"Dapat mula ngayon, ayusin mo sarili mo."

** 

**

I write, and I ask you to read my work.

“Ano sa tingin mo?”

“….”

“Beata?”

Your eyes meet mine.

“AIIIEEEEE.”

We turn our heads and Adela is laughing at us. I blush and you blush harder.

“…. Gusto ko yung mga gawa mo,” you murmur.

I smile at you.

“Sige.”

**

“Napakapaliharot ninyong dalawa,” Adela tells me outright. This is another meeting, and she sits in front of me, with maps in tow, and smelling slightly like gunpowder.

“Anong ibig sabihin mo?”

She puts the maps on the table. A map of Bulacan.

“Kayong dalawa ni Beata.” She facepalms. “Ang dali sabihin na gusto ninyong dalawa isa’t isa. Gago ka rin, eh.”

“Hannibal,” I sigh, using her code name, “ikaw, alam mo paano umibig?”

She grins and shrugs.

“Ano ang pag-ibig?” she challenges me.

The same night, I write the Kartilla.

**

You and Hannibal are in action, in the rebel camps, and I observe the two of you. Two women in a man’s world. I like how your hair blows in the wind, you know. I remember thinking of you when I watch you move and practice your shooting with Hannibal, who is apparently, helping you.

She brings you to your center, she commands you like the great commander of the Alps. Her command is natural, and she knows what I think when I look at you.

“Sabihin mo na.”

This is what she tells me, when we talk about strategies and plan things.

**

“Si Beata ay magiging tiktik.”

Beata as a spy? I frown at the idea that Adela and Manolo have suggested, as we plan things.

“Seryoso ka ba?”

Adela smirks.

“Kaya naman niya iyan eh.”

I frown.

“Magtiwala ka sa kanya.”

I can trust Adela with the idea of working. I have seen how she can detach and put herself in a position of power. But you. You’re different. You know, I didn’t want you to stray from me.

“Kaya ni Beata.” Andres interrupts.

I concede with him.

**

This is the first evening. We have you gather data and information around Manila, while Manolo and Adela score both Bulacan and Manila.

We have you on the lookout, for lock and key. You are our informer, you are our connection. The key to the delicate network of information. Adela and I are working together, and she is pushing it beyond her own boundaries, between Bulacan and Manila, and you are pushing yourself beyond everything.

I worry about you, but I have faith in you.

**

You arrive safely, with our documents in tow, alongside Gregorio De Jesus.

“Pingkian,” you say.

“Tawagin mo akong Emilio.”

You look at me.

“Emilio?”

Oryang smiles at you and nods.

“Emilio.”

**

So your name is Selya, and you speak creole Spanish and some Latin and Tagalog. You operate best infiltrating information and you can throw a mean punch. You come from Pampanga, your uncle is a Katipunero, you were sent here to Manila to complete your education yet here you are now, for Katipunan.

Selya.

“Selya. Para lang yung sa Florante at Laura,” I jest to you.

You laugh it off.

“Ano ba, Emilio.”

“Mga haliparot,” coughs Manolo in the background.

We are on the way to Bulacan, where Andres and Anacleto Enriquez are going to meet. Anacleto is a contact and friend of Manolo’s, and behind us, we can hear Adela sighing and huffing and covering her face, as if she is excited by the thought of meeting Anacleto Enriquez.

“Maghalikan na nga kayong dalawa,” Adela howls.

“….”

Andres and Manolo shoot her a look.

**

We have arrived, and the doors are closed. Introductions are made – we meet Matanglawin (Anacleto Enriquez), and his brother, and Gregorio, a friend of Anacleto’s, Bulakeños who are part of Katipunan. We introduce ourselves – me as Pingkian, you as Beata, and Adela as Hannibal, which in turn produces an amusing reaction out of the three Katipuneros we meet with. They are probably wondering why some random girl has picked a nom de guerre after a dead general in the Punic Wars.

We take our seats. I sit between you and Andres. Oryang takes her place beside Andres, and from the corner of my eye, I see Adela attempt to squeeze herself between Gregorio and Matanglawin. Once she has taken her seat, she flashes them both an uncharacteristically personable smile. You hide a giggle. This isn’t the Adela I know.

“Siya na ata ang magiging haliparot,” you whisper in my ear, then you bring out the food you have made.

Kakanin.

“Uy paborito ko iyan!” Gregorio cries out in delight. He holds out his hand to grab kakanin and you shoot him a death glare.

I look at you and you scowl, as if Gregorio has disgusted you.

Gregorio ’s hand is on the kakanin –

Adela slaps his hand out and without warning, she stuffs her mouth with the delicacies.

Thirteen seconds later, Adela and Gregorio are fighting over the food like children. You join in, as you withhold the food from Gregorio as if he is a traitor sitting at a banquet. 

**

“Pasensya na nag-away kami,” Adela laughs casually, talking to Anacleto Enriquez. She flashes him another crooked grin.

“Pasensya na rin, Binibini para kay Goyong.” He laughs, almost nervously.

“Hannibal,” Adela drawls. “Ako ay si Hannibal.”

“Hannibal.” He smiles. “May maganda akong pakiramdam tungkol sa iyo.”

She starts laughing harder. 

**

A moment later, I spot you barking at Gregorio.

“Magdadala ka po pa ba ng kakanin?”

“….Magdusa ka diyan.”

He looks sad.

“Ano ba ito, si Hannibal tapos si Beata ang sama sa akin!” (Sad Goyong pls)

“Ano ba.” You snippily point it out to him. “Si Hannibal ang iyong makakatrabaho.” You look at me and I blush.

“…Hannibal?”

“Yung katabi mo kanina.”

“Yung maganda?”

Maganda? I frown.

You snort at him.

“Aalis na ako, Gregorio.”

“Mag-ingat po kayo, Beata at Pingkian.”

“Salamat.”

**

We walk our way, under the night sky. Just the two of us. Two people working for the sake of our nation. Me, Pingkian. You, Beata. Our destination is Manolo’s old house here in Bulacan, where he and Adela grew up. Manolo has probably left, and Adela…. Probably got left behind in the Enriquez brothers’ house. It’s sensible to put faith in her.

The two of us walk in silence, and our hands almost touch. We don’t touch, we just send each other looks.

The cicadas make a nice choir in the night, and this becomes one of the rarest times of silence.

A small pat of dew.

It is followed by the slow pouring of rain.

“Maganda.” You tell me the word, under the rain, as we run for cover under a tree. I take off my jacket and place it over your shoulders.

Maganda?

“Maganda,” you repeat. You hold out your hand and it touches my cheek. Maganda. Beautiful.

**

“Mabangis ang mundo…”

You smile at me.

“… pero napakaganda nito.”

I do not deny you tell me the truth.

**

“Minsan nagagalit ako sa inyong dalawa.” Adela chides me, as we once again make plans, with maps in hand. She bends her head down, inspecting the locations.

“Bakit naman?”

“Alam niyong dalawa nagmamahalan kayo.” Her teeth grit. Hard. “Pero wala naman kayong ginagawa tungkol don.”

“Kung ikaw ako, ano ang gagawin mo, Hannibal?”

She smiles.

“Una, ipapakita ko sa kanya na mahal ko siya. Tapos, aangkinin ko siya bilang akin. Hindi ko siya papakawalan.”

Not bad. Empirical approach.

“Nakita ko paano ka tumingin kina Gregorio at Matanglawin.”

“Sila?” She laughs.

“Oo. Ikaw, paano naman ang buhay-pab-ibig mo?”

“Ang pag-ibig ay…” Her lips twist. “Parang laro.” She blushes red. “Pero Pingkian, may mahal na ako.”

“At sino naman ito?”

“Ang taong nakikita ko sa may salamin.”

“Hay nako.” 

**

“Naniniwala ka ba sa tadhana, Emilio?”

“Bakit mo tinatanong?”

“Wala lang, siguro.” You close your eyes. “Paano kasi kung may tadhana ako. Ang taong mamahalin ko.”

You can be my destiny, I suppose.

My destiny… to my country and to you.

**

1896.

You and I are discussing about the spies. Adela and Manolo have been in Bulacan and back, to help. Two of the most organized people in the movement.

“Emilio?”

“Ano iyon?”

“Kung maari, ayaw kitang iwanan.”

I look at you.

But a hurried knock at the door, and you answer it, where Adela rushes inside, eyes wide and hands shaking.

“Anong nangyari?”

“Si Matanglawin…”

She bites her lip.

“….nasawi.”

We pray for his soul later. These are the fortunes of war. 

**

The world is cruel. Indeed. It is 1897 and we are scattered now. By now, I have stuck to Oryang and Andres. You are with us, and as for Manolo and Adela, they have gone over to Bulacan, helping out their fellow Bulakeños in the effort.

**

“Maghihiwalay tayo.”

This, I tell you, as we travel.

You bow your head.

“Isa pang bagay.”

“Ano iyon, Selya?”

“Emilio, mahal kita.”

“Selya –“

“Pingkian.”

At the wall that covers us, a figure waits.

You give me a shaky chuckle.

“Ito na ata ang tadhana natin, Emilio.”

“Tadhana?”

You kneel. You take my hands and kiss them, softly and tenderly. Then you give me a long warm hug.

“Tadhana,” you murmur. “Ikaw ay isang heneral. Ang tunay na mahal mo ang iyong bagay. Pareho na rin sa akin. Ako ay nagmamahal sa bayan ko. Hindi ako gaano ka organisado tulad nina Andoy at ni Manolo, o hindi ako matatalino at mautak at magaling sa taktika tulad ninyong dalawa ni Adela… pero may puso ako para sa aking bayan. Ibibigay ko ang puso ko para sa aking bayan.”

Is this how I lose you, before I even hold you in my arms?

“Huwag mo akong iiwan,” I tell you. “Selya. Kailangan kita.”

You shake your head.

“Bayan, Emilio. Si Adela’y kasama si Gregorio at si Vicente. Magkasama silang tatlo lumalaban. Ang aking obligasyon ay ganun din.”

“Kung gayon…” I take a deep inhale. “Kung gayon, mag-ingat ka, Selya.”

“Sa susunod, Pingkian.”

“Sa susunod, Beata.”

**

Adela, Manolo and I meet once again, in secret. Time has changed them – Manolo has more white hair in his head and there is something lost in Adela. What has made such a smart girl mischievous and naughty has gone. Her eyes are dark, and her fingers rest on her pistol, hard. We are in Tondo, Manila, hiding like rats. I have to be careful, and she has to be careful, too. Never mind everything - we are in grave and clear danger everyday, every hour, every second. Manolo has a safety net over his head due to the 

“Pingkian.”

“Hannibal.”

Her eyes search the room.

“Nasaan si Beata?”

“Umalis siya.”

“Sayang.”

What a waste indeed.

**

I can cry for you. I have lost you before I had you. But I am a soldier, and Adela and I talk of strategies, and Manolo listens. Adela clamors for weapons and laughs because although her father is rich, what more can her status as an heiress do her? 

"May mga limitasyon." We lack in numbers. We lack in resources. But it's a hard life and I learn. I make it through. 

A few months later, I fall sick.

**

The visitors come. Manolo and his sister are the first.

**

“Sayang wala ikaw,” Manolo tells me. “Mas kailangan ka namin.”

**

“Dapat nakita mo yung ginawa nila kay Andoy.” Adela furiously walks the room, as she recounts everything to me in my sick bed. She closes her eyes and sighs. “Sana gumaling ka, Emilio.”

**

And then you.

“Selya.”

“Emilio.”

You give me a kiss on the forehead.

“Magpagaling ka.”

There is something I have noticed in you two. Adela and you. Something sad in the weight of your eyes. Where is the dutiful young woman who taught me how to speak Tagalog? Your hands are soft, but they are no longer warm. Your face has grown thinner. Is it age? Or is it something more? I've watched you two grow up through the months. The girls I knew were happy and dutiful Katipuneras, eager to do what was good. Hannibal knew what it was like to drown in blood. And you? What have you suffered? 

**

You two knew, didn’t you?

Some time later, I receive the news, with you by my side, that Andoy was killed. Betrayed by the same men who claimed to be his brothers. You hold my hand.

The letter is written by two members of Katipunan – and one of them is Adela, who has written that something must have conspired in Cavite.

“Emilio.”

I look at you.

“May plano ako.”

**

This is our last parting.

“Paano ikaw?” I ask.

“Kaya ko problemahin ang sarili ko. Lalaban pa rin ako. Baka puntahan ko si Adela.”

“Sige.”

“Kung pwede lang kita samahan.”

“Selya. Huwag.”

“Bakit?”

“Masyadong mapeligro. Sumama ka kay Manolo at Adela.”

“Isa pang mensahe.”

I look at you.

“Mahal kita.”

“Mahal din kita.”

“Salamat sa lahat, Selya.”

You nod.

“Salamat din, Emilio.”

**

I think of you now, as I recover. I meant for you to be safe, all this time. I meant for you to be safe with Adela and Manolo, who know how to maneuver themselves in a cruel world. Manolo is only doing his duty and Adela knows her way in this world. They are survivors, while I am going to die an idealist.

Selya.

Maganda.

Beautiful.

Kind.

Compassionate.

Wherever you are, Selya, I hope you are safe.


	2. Notes and Words

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Beauty and brutality exist in the same contexts.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Letters. 
> 
> Code names:  
> -Selya - Beata  
> -Emilio - Pingkian  
> -Adela - Hannibal  
> -Manolo - Manggagawa/Aristotle  
> -Vito - Manggagamot  
> -Emilio Aguinaldo - Magdalo

1898

Mahal kong Selya,

Nagtago kami sa may mga bundok. Naghiwalay kami nina Adela at Manolo. Saan man ikaw naroroon, si Adela ang nakakaalaman kung saan ka nagsisitago. Hindi mo maiwanan ang aking isip, nasa akin pa rin ang mga alaala ng ating oras na magkasama. Alam mo, iniisip kita bawat araw na lumilipas. Bawat araw, iniisip ko kung nasaan ikaw. Paano ikaw mabubuhay sa mabangis na mundong ito? Nakita na natin paano kumain ng tao ag Rebolusyon.

Ano ng nangyari sa lahat ng pinaghirapan natin? Ano ang nangyari sa mga prutas ng ating pinagtrabahuhan? Mahirap alamin kung kanino talaga nakaalyado ng mga tiktik. Si Vito pwedeng mapagtiwalaan; ang mga Reyes at ang mga Enriquez, baka pwede pang makausap, pero may masamang pakiramdam ako tungkol kina Emilio Aguinaldo at Apolinario Mabini. Rumarating sa akin ang mga sulat ni Oryang. Rumarating ang mga sulat nina Adela at Manolo.

Selya, Beata, hindi ko ito nasabi sa iyo nang harap-harap pero sana’y mabuhay ka nang wala ako sa iyong piling. Ito lang ang bagay na makakapagligtas sa iyo.

Iyong Pingkian

**

Selya,

Hindi na sumusulat si Manolo; si Adela na ang sumusulat. Si Vito’y ayaw tumanggap maging parte ng mga pwersa ni Aguinaldo pero napilitan sina Hannibal at Manggagamot dahil kay Manolo. May tiwala pa ako’y kay Hannibal, hindi ako naniniwala sa mga sulat na pinapadala ni Apolinario Mabini. Peligro man ang buhay ko pero nakakayanan ko ito. Basta ikaw ay wala sa damay. Basta ikaw ay nabubuhay.

Natuto akong mabuhay na wala ka. Dinanas ko ang mga gabi na iniisip ang kulay ng iyong mga mata at ang mga salita mong sinasabi. Paano mo ginupit nabuhok ko, paano mo ako minahal. Sundalo o sibilyan, Selya, sana’y nahanap mo na ang lalaking magpapasaya sa iyo, magbibigay sa iyo ng buhay na masaya.

Pingkian

**

Selya,

Hindi ka sumusulat sa akin. Natuto ka na bang tuluyang kalimutan ako? Nagdudusa ako pero nakakayanin. Walang sinasabi si Adela ukol sa iyo; baka naman sibilyan ka na? O baka naman maparaan ka at tinago mo ang sarili mo nang tuluyan sa mga pwersa ni Aguinaldo?

Minahal kita.

Pingkian

**

1898

Beata,

Pasahan at pasahan kami ng mga mensahe nina Pingkian at Aristotle. Si Pingkian ay may ibang buhay. Hindi niya ikaw pinag-uusapan. Si Magdalo'y nagpunta sa aking sariling kampo. Ang sabi ng mga tauhan ni Magdalo ay gusto niya akong kausapin. Nagtaka ako bakit ako, Beata. Hindi na lang ba sina Manggagamot at Aristotle ang linapitan? Si Mariano Alvarez nalapitan din, yung ang mga nakuha ko mula sa aking mga tiktik. Mahirap ang kalagayan ngayon. May malaking pangamba si Manggagamot tungkol kay Magdalo; isang buwan bago pinadala ni Magdalo ang mga tauhan niya sa aking kampo ay lumapit siya kina Manggagamot. Ang narinig ko'y si Aguila'y todo ang suporta kay Magdalo. Para sa akin, unti ang tiwala ko kay Magdalo. Magaling nga siya sa digmaan pero sa pulitika, doon ang pangamba.

Edukado man ako, may mga pagdududa ako ukol sa porma ng gobyernong inaayos niya. Kasama ko ang aking mga tauhan at ang sabi nila'y linagay na nila ang desisyon sa akin. Ang huling salita, sa isang mundong malaya, ay dapat napunta sa akin. Bago pa ako't nagpasya, ay isang tiktik ko ang pumunta sa kampo't sinabi't naguusap sina Aristotle at Magdalo. Nakuha na ni Magdalo si Aguila, at ang isa pang gusto makuha niya ay ang aking mga kuya. Ako rin ay nadamay sa mga makinasyon ng pulitika.

Sa isang kontekstong mapulitika, ang inuupuan ko ngayon ay mahirap. Lagi naman itong mahirap - ako ay isang pinuno ng mga tiktik, at ako ang naguutos sa aking mga sariling tauhan. Isa akong mandirigma at tagagawa ng stratehiya. Mas malaki ang tiwala ko sa aking sarili kaysa sa salita ng mga lalaki sa paligid ko. Ang habol siguro ni Magdalo ay ang lakas at istilo ni Aristotle sa digmaan, at kaalaman na medikal ni Manggagamot at ang aking mga tiktik. Bilang isang tiktik, Beata, ay may relasyon ikaw kay Pingkian. Maawa na ako't papalayain kita mula sa iyong obligasyong manatili. Delikado dahil baka may humabol sa iyo ukol sa relasyon mo kay Pingkian. Lahat ng pwersang malakas ni Maypagasa't kinukuha na ni Magdalo, at sa iyo na ang huling salita.

Kukunin ako ni Magdalo mamayang gabi. Ang mga tauhan ko ay wala nang magagawa. Ang kaya ko gawin ay magpahinga muna; baka magkita uli kami ni Vicente at ni Aguila. Kailangang makipagsulatan tayong dalawa muli. Lahat ng istasyon nating dalawa ay delikado.

Hannibal

**  
Beata,

Pinagpahinga muna ako; nakipagkita muli ako kay Vicente. Nagpunta ulit ako sa Tondo at Bulacan, sa ilalim ng pretekstong mamamasyal ako. Nagbihis babae't ako at doon, tinipon ko ang mga tiktik ko para mabantay ang sitwasyon. Si Pingkian sumusulat pa rin; nag-usap kami ulit. Mukhang may asawa na siya. Hindi na niya binabanggit pangalan mo. Hindi na niya ikaw pinag-uusapan. May hinala ako't may nangyari sa inyong dalawa.

Nagpunta akong Malolos at doon ko nalaman na iistasyon uli ako kasama nina Aguila at nina Aristotle. Nagkaroon ng mga piging at napilitan akong sumayaw. Ang ginawa ko kay Aguila ay hindi ko siya pinansin. Mukha ngang galit siya sa akin. Nang susunod na araw, nagpakita siya sa may balkonahe ng kwarto ko at tinapunan ko siya ng tubig at tuba sa ulo. Bakit? Wala lang. Kala naman niya kung sino siya.

Ito pa ang malala: nalasing ako nang piging at may nasukahan ako. Nakakahiya, Beata. Bait ni Vicente, at nasalo niya ako. Nagsuka ako sa may labas ng bahay at may dalawang mababait na sundalo na natawa sa akin. Ang mas bata sa kanilang dalawa'y nagbigay ng panyo sa akin at ang kuya niya ay nagbigay ng lunas sa sakit ng ulo ko sa susunod na araw. Bernal ang kanilang apelyido - mantakin mo ang biglang kahiyaan ko nang isang linggo't, nagkaroon ng isang pulong ng mga sundalo at naandon pala sila. Nakakahiya. Alam nila nagsuka ako.

Tatanggapin ko pa ang ideya na dahil nasa pwersa mismo ako ni Magdalo kasama ko rin si Aguila. Hindi ko nanaman siya pinansin at ang pinagtripan ko ay ang pagkain. :^) Pinagalitan ako't sinigawan ni Manggagamot nang narinig niya mula kay Aguila na nalasing at nagsuka ako nang piging. Kailangan ko gumanti kaya ang ganti ko sa kanya ngayon ay ang maglagay ng bangkay ng isang patay na daga sa kanyang mukha habang siya'y tulog sa kwarto niya.

P.S.  
Gumuhit ako sa mukha niya ng balbas. Swak. Bagay na bagay. Dapat nakita mo.

-Hannibal

**  
Beata

Sumigaw nang malakas si Aguila nang nakita ang patay na daga at ang guhit ng balbas sa mukha niya. Hindi niya alam ako ang tagapagsimuno nito. Si Vicente natatawa; isa itong sikreto na ako ang gumawa nito. Nagpulong kaming mga sundalo sa labas, at dumaan si Magdalo, bilang heneral. Di ko na nga alam kung anong ranggo ko - tagapagorganisa ako ng mga sundalo, isa akong tagahawak ng baril at pistol, at ang puso at utak ko ay mga sandata ko. Sa tingin ko, mas epektibo ikaw na magkasama kayo ni Pingkian. Hindi ito diskredito sa iyong husay bilang isang tiktik. Ang istilo mo ay malakas, pero ikaw ay hindi bagay sa mga maduduming metodiko.

Sa mata ni Magdalo isa nanaman akong sundalo. Ito ba ang tadhana ko, na maging sundalo dahil ang mga sirkumstanya ay ang nagdikta nito? Murang edad na ako'y humahawak ng pistol at baril, at ngayong bente't isang anyos na ako, ay parang isang habangbuhay na ako'y lumalaban. Sa tingin mo, ito ba talaga ang buhay para sa akin? Na ang digmaan ay nagmahal sa akin nang tuluyan, na hinagkan ng digmaan ang aking mga kakayahan? Mabuti lang ako para mag-organisa, para humawak ng baril, na lumakad sa pulang dugong iniihan ang lupa, na yumakap sa realidad at sabihin na kailangan ko mabuhay?

Wala akong oras para ibigay ang puso ko kanino man. At iyon ang pasya ko. Nang isang hapunan, pinakilala si Heneral Antonio Luna. Ang dalawang Bernal na magkakapatid ay pinili niya sa ilalim niya. Ako naman ay mukhang idinikit kay Aguila, kahit gago siya. Kung pwede lang sana inilayo ako sa kanya. Ang aking konsolasyon ay ang kadikit ko ang kapatid ni Anacleto. Alam ng Diyos, kung may Diyos, na minahal ko si Anacleto nang buo at wagas at dalisay kahit makasalanang ensaymada ako. Linapitan ko ang mga Bernal at mukhang masaya kaming nagkwentuhan tungkol sa digmaan.

Nagtanong sila sa aking buhay-pag-ibig at tumawa lamang ako. Sigurado ako hindi na ako ikakasal at hinding hindi na ako liligawan.

-Hannibal

 

**

Hannibal,

Pupunta na ako diyan.

-Beata

 

**

1899

Tarlac

“May isang sulat para sa iyo.” Adela’s voice is no longer as carefree as before. Her voice is stern and heavy. Time does that to a soldier, and she is no stranger to death. Her shoulders are heavy and her eyes have grown dim. The mischievous soldier she starts out to be has now changed into a calculating commander who is working with that despicable bastard who called himself Aguila in earlier days.

I nod at her.

“Kanino ito galing.”

Adela sighs.

“Kay Pingkian.” She looks around the room, cautious. It is only the two of us, two women in an army. I understand her more nowadays. She works with that bastard Del Pilar, she is close to the Enriquezes, and she is a veteran in battle and in strategy. Back in the olden days, she and I worked in securing a spy network. I was one of the spies myself.

Pingkian. My heart still beats for him.

“Ano, Adela?”

“May masama akong pakiramdam tungkol sa kanya.”

I take the letter and open it.

“Ano iyon?”

“Namatay na si Pingkian.”

END.


End file.
